


the gentle fine

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Getting Together, Guilt, Shame, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Coming off a year in which he posted a career-high 32 points, Colorado Avalanche forward J.T. Compher had a new training partner at home this summer--his younger sister Jesse.NHL.com, October 12th, 2019





	the gentle fine

**Author's Note:**

> if you or anyone you know is mentioned in this story/the tags, PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. this is all 100% fictional and not at all a reflection on the real people depicted herein. 
> 
> [summary from this article](https://www.nhl.com/avalanche/news/compher-siblings-bonded-through-hockey/c-310020098)
> 
> thanks to k for reading this over.

Maybe it’s just been a while since JT lived with girls, but he’s pretty sure they usually wear more clothes than… whatever Jesse has been wearing this summer.

“Do you even own any whole shirts? Or do you just buy the halves?” JT asks, rolling his eyes as he grabs the cereal from the table and brings it over to the counter.

“It’s called a crop top, and also, fuck off, it’s hot,” Jesse says. 

“The more skin you show, the more places you’ll be sunburnt,” JT says. He gets a bowl from the cabinet. “We have the same complexion, remember?”

“I think I can handle a little sun, but I appreciate your concern. Also, I didn’t know you knew the word complexion. Good job.”

“Who the fuck doesn’t know the word complexion?”

“Stupid boys, probably,” she says. 

  


She’s affectionate, always finding reasons to press her side against his or rest her feet in his lap.

It’s just who she is. It’s not on purpose, and it’s definitely got nothing to do with JT.

  


She’s wearing a dress, one that hits just above her knee, because she’s tall, for a girl, so most dresses look short on her. JT doesn’t know much about girls, but he knows that it’s hard for her to find clothing sometimes— because she’s athlete-shaped, slim without being small. She’s got a firm stomach that’s not quite flat, and her thighs are big, and that means clothing doesn’t necessarily hang off of her the way it would if she were tiny, the kind of ethereal wispy girl that JT thinks of as “conventionally” pretty.

Not that Jesse’s not pretty, because she is, just— in a more real way. She’s got long hair and huge eyes and she’s always, always smiling. She’s just— not the kind of girl who necessarily looks better in makeup or nice clothes or the other things that girls wear to look nice. So much clothing tries to hide some things or accentuate others, and Jesse doesn’t need any of that. She looks best when she’s just. Jesse.

She’s sitting in his lap, and they’ve each had a few beers. It’s not weird, JT thinks, it’s just. Sibling stuff.

“This dress looks nice on you,” JT says, and he doesn’t stop himself from grasping the fabric a little tighter in his hands.

He feels her shift against him, hopes against hope that his body doesn’t react to the friction. 

“Thanks,” she says.

JT lets out an exhale, aware that it’s right in her ear, but he’s a little too tipsy to care, so instead he just— lets himself take it in, for a moment, loses himself in some fantasy where everything’s exactly as it is but they’re two different people. JT and Jesse, but none of the stuff that’s getting in the way of that. 

When he comes back from it, he feels both stone cold sober and absolutely intoxicated.

  


She flirts with guys, sometimes. Bats her eyelashes, laughs at their jokes and means it half the time, and JT doesn’t have any right to an opinion on the matter, so he doesn’t share it.

“You can stop glaring at every guy who wants to buy me a drink,” Jesse says, one night early in the summer.

“I’m not glaring.”

Jesse snorts. “Sure.”

“You’re under 21,” he says. “Those guys are technically breaking the law.”

“You bought me beer when I was seventeen,” she protests.

JT feels his cheeks heat up. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“Just is.”

He can feel her eyes on him, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees her shrug, so he drops it.

Jesse flirts with guys sometimes, but never goes home with them, never gives them more than a chuckle or a dance before she finds JT and asks him if he’s cool with going home early and watching a movie or something, and JT always is, so.

  


…… 

  


JT’s having a surprisingly hard time falling asleep, probably because he’s sharing a room with Jesse— which is weird, because he’s usually fine with sharing a room, but he figures that’s because he’s usually exhausted. Right now he’s on vacation, so nothing’s really wearing him down.

Jesse is tossing and turning more than usual, and JT is trying to tune it out, except then she lets out one noise, then another, then—

JT’s face heats up with the realization of what’s happening.

There’s no way— she can’t be. They’re in a shared room, and it’s not late enough that she could assume he’s sleeping. He’s not pretending to, either, and, sure, he has headphones in, but she has to know he can tell, right? 

He debates saying something, and in the meantime, he listens for anything that can prove him wrong, but the more time passes, the more he hears the rhythmic rustle of the sheets and carefully contained inhales and exhales. She's trying to be quiet; maybe he should just wait for her to finish.

And in the meantime, he can— what, listen to his sister get off in the bed next to him? That’s a thought so fucked up that he has to roll on his side and squeeze his eyes shut so he doesn’t have a chance to let it sink in.

A few seconds later, there’s a quiet, fluttery exhale. 

It’s almost surreal, hearing her get up from her bed and pad to the bathroom, and he can’t help but roll over at the last second to try and get a glance at her without her noticing. 

He sees her rumpled sheets in the dark, and catches the silhouette of her retreating form, on which, he’s pretty sure, he can make out one of his shirts.

  


JT doesn’t sleep at all that night, but Jesse is bright and cheerful the next morning, claiming she slept like a baby when their parents ask.

When they direct the question at JT, he just grunts into his oatmeal.

  


The following day is spent by the pool, so images of Jesse laughing and splashing and radiant in the water fill his mind as he tries to fall asleep. Interspersed among them are memories of the other night, and they’re so vivid that he doesn’t realize it’s happening again for a while.

But when he does, he freezes.

“Jesse,” he says, before he can really think about it, “can you—“

“Shut up, I’m close,” she hisses out, and JT shuts his mouth, sort of shell-shocked.

It’s only a few more seconds after that, but it feels like an eternity, knowing that she  _ knows  _ he knows and is still going. If the positions were reversed, JT would be horrified, humiliated, but she’s just— it’s remarkable. She can get off with no shame, no hesitation.

For a second, JT is overwhelmingly jealous, and then it fades quickly into the guiltiest sense of  _ want _ he’s ever experienced.

She comes with a small gasp, and JT is maybe going to burn a hole in this mattress, because he feels like he’s on fire. He listens to her breathing get longer and steadier and wonders what the fuck is wrong with him, that he’s… reacting like this. Sure, she’s been the one doing things, but the fact that he’s… feeling the way he’s feeling, that he knows this about his sister and that he wants more than anything to  _ do  _ something with that knowledge— that’s fucked up and bad and  _ wrong,  _ even though it feels so, so right. 

“Sorry,” she says, still a little breathless. “I just— it helps me sleep.” 

JT nods, even though he knows she can’t see. 

“It’s fine,” he says. It’s not fine at all, actually, but whatever.

“You can do it too, if you want.”

Which. “Huh?”

“If that would make you feel less weird,” she says. “I don’t mind if you don’t.” 

Weird doesn’t even begin to describe how JT’s feeling right now. “Like… when do you mean?” 

“Whenever,” she says. “Now, or tomorrow night, or— whenever the urge strikes, I guess.” 

“Oh,” he says, feeling a little dizzy. “I’ll… think about it.” 

“Alright,” she says, and JT can’t tell if the nonchalance in her voice is real, or if her face is secretly bright red, her blush hidden in the dark hotel room. “Just. I have roommates. Y’know.” 

JT has had roommates before; he’s never, ever had this particular conversation before. If someone jacks off in front of you, JT’s pretty sure the etiquette is to just tune them out and pretend it’s not happening, but Jesse’s playing this game by different rules, apparently. 

For a second, JT just lies there, lets the conversation end, vows to put it out of his mind, except— 

He’s hard. 

Like. Really hard, not just from hearing someone else—hearing Jesse—get off, but from all the shame and confusion that’s swirling in his head. And it’s dark and late and none of this feels real, and Jesse just—

And she told him it was okay, if he—

JT takes a shaky breath, in and out, then slowly reaches down to cup his dick.

He tells himself that he’s just testing the waters, but the second he feels the pressure, he sneaks a hand under his boxers, wraps it around the shaft of his dick on instinct. It’s dry, but there’s a little precome, and he’s so turned on already— it won’t take him that long. He’s already right on the edge. 

God, Jesse is still awake. Jesse was talking to him a few seconds ago. Jesse was getting off a few minutes ago.

She’s still lying in bed, still coming down from her own orgasm. 

She’s probably still wet.

An alarm goes off in his head at that thought, because he’s  _ not supposed to think those kinds of things about his sister.  _ But it doesn’t matter, because he’s already coming, so sudden that he doesn’t even have time to hold back a gasp. 

It’s the most intense thing he’s ever felt, compounded over and over by his own humiliation, and he’s just— he wants to cry, wants to disappear into this bed, wants to lock the door and never leave and pretend that this moment in this hotel room is the whole world and that they can have this, that he can have  _ her.  _

Fucking christ, this is— 

“It’s okay,” Jesse says, cutting off his train of thought. JT’s not aware enough of his body to know if it’s because she heard him hyperventilating or something, or if she just knows what he must be feeling right now. “You’re okay, J.”

JT isn’t okay, but her voice makes him want to be, even though he shouldn’t be, and it’s just— the same cycle of guilt and want again. He’s probably going to spend the rest of his life trapped in it.

“Can I come over there?” she asks, and JT can’t  _ speak,  _ but he nods, hopes she doesn’t need any more from him right now.

Apparently, it’s enough.

He feels her hand on his shoulder, doesn’t bother turning back to look at her. He can’t, not after he did  _ that,  _ not when he feels like  _ this.  _ Usually, he’d be able to believe that it would feel better in the morning, but right now, that’s not helping, because no matter how fucked up this is, he still wants it more than anything in the world.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice still so, so soft.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Which— can’t be true, because she did everything JT did, and she’s the one who started it. 

But she’s Jesse, and that means, in JT’s mind, nothing she does is ever really wrong, not in the way JT knows this is wrong.

Whatever this even is.

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” Jesse says. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you too,” JT says, automatic, even though he’s on the brink of falling apart, and his boxers are sticky where his come is rapidly cooling.

He needs to be held together by something, but he doesn’t trust himself to let Jesse be that person for him. 

  


Except then Jesse spends most of the next day avoiding him, and JT feels… lost. 

  


That night, he waits in the dark of their hotel room, hoping to hear the almost-familiar noises of Jesse getting off, but no sound comes from her bed; JT feels the deepest fear of his life right in the center of his gut, and wonders if she realized, last night, just how much he cares about her, and if that freaked her out.

God, he feels like a monster— he wouldn’t want to scare her, just wanted to do what he thought she wanted from him. He wants to be whatever she needs from him, and that’s— it’s sort of the whole problem, right now. 

It all has him so shaken up, and it taps into something dark in him, something that his him, inexplicably, rustling loudly in his bed, like he‘s trying to get his sleeping sister’s attention.

When he hears her turn over, he sticks his hand down his pants.

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to do— mess with her head? With his own? See if he’s pushed it too far? Try and push it even farther? To figure out where the line is?

It’s fear that has him hard and keeps him hard, but he’s listening the entire time, waiting to see how she reacts, if she does.

He gets an answer in the form of a soft noise, a small intake of breath followed by a hum and some movement, and that’s when he knows he’s being watched.

He puts on a show of it.

He bites his lip and lets himself make noise, and arches his back when he comes, even though, at some point, Jesse stops watching and joins in. Even though her eyes aren’t on him anymore, he knows she’s getting off on him, and if they’re actually gonna cross this line, they’re gonna do it in style. 

They don’t talk afterwards; JT listens to Jesse come as he’s coming down from his orgasm, and he feels something solidify in his chest, and he doesn’t say a word, because there’s not really much to say. 

  


It happens most nights. 

Jesse will ask JT to rub sunblock on her, and JT will think about that while he lies in bed next to her, wishing he was thinking about anything else; JT wonders if she does the same. 

They don’t talk about it, and they’re a little more affectionate than usual, but they’re in Hawaii as a family and everyone is piña colada tipsy and warm and loving.

No one has to know that with him and Jesse, it’s just— a little bit different.

  


…… 

  


When they get back home, JT doesn’t know what to expect. They’re not sharing a room anymore, obviously, so maybe they’ll get a chance to let this go, and it’ll become a weird isolated vacation memory.

It doesn’t feel different, except for how he wants to touch Jesse all the time now, but it doesn’t feel weird, and only occasionally feels like too much.

They go into the city one night, end up at some club to meet up with a few of Jesse’s friends from school, and when they walk in, it’s just the two of them. JT likes it that way, likes the idea that there are probably strangers here who might mistake them for something other than brother and sister. It still feels fucked up to like it, but JT’s kind of had to adjust. Now that it feels like it’s both of them, and now that it’s been a few weeks, it’s easier to wrap his head around this— he’s not okay with it, but it’s happening, and he just has to accept that. 

“I don’t think I like this,” Jesse says. 

“What, your drink?” JT asks. “I can get you a new one.” 

She shakes her head. “Just, like, going out,” she says. “Why do people do this?” 

JT shrugs. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want.” 

“I guess,” she says. She looks down at her outfit, a dress that’s slightly-too-tight and slightly-too-short and would look amazing if she wasn’t visibly tugging at the hem every few seconds. “I don’t really have anything else to get dressed up for, though.” 

“Do you like getting dressed up for stuff like this?” he asks, and, like. Obviously he wouldn’t know, because he’s not her, but it doesn’t seem particularly fun, and she doesn’t seem particularly comfortable. 

She frowns. “Sometimes I do, I think,” she says. “I like… looking nice, and stuff.” 

“You always look nice,” JT says, without really meaning to, but if his face is a little red afterwards, he can blame it on the alcohol. “And if you don’t want to go out, then we don’t have to go out? Just, like. Do what makes you happy.” 

“Huh,” she says, cocking her head, a little thoughtful. “Does that mean we can go home now, if I want?” 

JT would get her the moon if she wanted it, but he doesn’t need to tell her just how tightly she’s got him wrapped around her finger. 

“If you want,” he says instead. 

“Alright,” she says, standing up from her chair. “Let’s go, then.” 

JT follows suit. “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting your friends?” 

She shrugs. “We’re not that close.” 

And then JT laughs, and Jesse laughs, and it’s hard to not jog on the way out, because suddenly, JT wants nothing more than to breathe in the air of a Chicago summer night. 

  


Jesse kisses him in an empty train station on the northern tip of the city, waiting for the train that will take them out into the suburbs. From there, they’ll call an Uber, but maybe before then, they’ll walk around a little bit— only if it’s safe, of course. Only if it’s empty. 

Jesse kisses him while waiting for the last of the handful of yellow line trains to pick them up and whisk them to someplace anonymous, and JT kisses back as fiercely and gently as he’s ever kissed anyone, and for that one moment, there’s nothing between them but pure love and solitude. 

Jesse kisses him on the train platform, and Jesse stops kissing him when the train comes, and Jesse pretends to fall asleep on the train ride home, just so she can have an excuse to put her head on his shoulder. 

  


…… 

  


The first time JT touches her, they’re watching a movie on the couch; she grabs his hand under a blanket and puts it down the front of her shorts. 

Their parents are asleep, and Morgan’s out for the night, but still, they don’t take their eyes off the TV. Instead, JT listens to the way her breath shifts pitch when he touches her clit, figures out the best ways to get her wet, gets to know her in a new, incredibly intimate way.

He explores for a while, feeling his way around until she suddenly stiffens, grabs his hand, thrusts against it once, and has the softest, most intense orgasm JT can even imagine. He can almost feel her clenching around nothing, but out of the corner of his eye, he can see the way she barely blinks.

After a second, he moves to take his hand out of her shorts, but she grabs his wrist.

“You can—“ she rolls her hips up. “If you want.”

JT  _ does _ want. He wants  _ badly.  _

She comes three more times, and afterwards, JT washes his hands twice, but it doesn’t make a difference, because they still smell like her.

  


They come home from the gym one afternoon to find that they’re the only ones around, and they waste no time retreating to JT’s room. 

She watches as he rolls a condom on, and straddles his hips before sinking down onto his dick, and the last thing he consciously processes before the sensation of being  _ inside her  _ takes over is the way her eyelashes flutter shut. 

JT’s a little obsessed with making her come already, so when he can actually  _ feel  _ it like this, it’s that much more intense— he watches as she rubs her clit, desperately chasing an orgasm, like she wants to experience it like this once on the off chance that someone comes home and ruins this moment. The feeling of her vagina squeezing around him almost sends him over the edge, but he holds off, because he wants to feel it again and again and again. Jesse can come over and over, if she wants, but JT doesn’t have that going for him, so he’s gonna make the one orgasm he gets a really fucking good one. 

He asks her to come again before he does, and in an ideal world, they’d keep going forever and ever, JT perpetually on the edge, Jesse finding new noises to make and new ways to come and new ways to feel good. 

But they don’t live in an ideal world, and the knowledge that their family could come home at any point makes them stop.

“I hope we get to do that again soon,” Jesse says, as JT ties off the condom.

“I’m sure we will,” JT says. “Definitely before the end of the summer.”

“Ugh. That’s so soon,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

JT shrugs. “‘S your school’s fault.”

“Still,” Jesse says. “It’s been a fun summer.”

“It has been,” JT says, and then he hesitates for a second. “Hey, uh— after the summer.”

Jesse turns to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Are we still gonna—“ he gulps. “Will we be okay?”

She smiles at him, a little sadly, he thinks. “Probably,” she says. “But I don’t want to think about that too much.”


End file.
